


Games Without Frontiers

by orphan_account



Category: Highlander - All Media Types, Star Trek: The Next Generation
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2000-06-10
Updated: 2000-06-10
Packaged: 2018-12-18 05:50:56
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,920
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11868024
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/orphan_account
Summary: Note from Daire, the archivist: this story was originally archived atDaire's Fanfic Refuge. Deciding to give the stories a more long-term home, I began importing its works to the AO3 as an Open Doors-approved project in August 2017. I e-mailed all creators about the move and posted announcements, but may not have reached everyone. If you are (or know) this creator, please contact me using the e-mail address onDaire's Fanfic Refuge's collection profile.





	Games Without Frontiers

**Author's Note:**

> Note from Daire, the archivist: this story was originally archived at [Daire's Fanfic Refuge](http://fanlore.org/wiki/Daire%27s_Fanfic_Refuge). Deciding to give the stories a more long-term home, I began importing its works to the AO3 as an Open Doors-approved project in August 2017. I e-mailed all creators about the move and posted announcements, but may not have reached everyone. If you are (or know) this creator, please contact me using the e-mail address on [Daire's Fanfic Refuge's collection profile](http://archiveofourown.org/collections/dairesfanficrefuge/profile).

Games Without Frontiers

_Games Without Frontiers_

Disclaimer: Highlander and all related characters belong to Rysher and Davis/Panzer Productions. Star Trek: the Next Generation, Generations, Q and all related ships, events, are the property of Paramount and are used for entertainment reasons only. This references events from the third season episode "Deja Q". The sequel to "Footsteps in the Sand" featuring my invented character, Jeri Mckenna. 

* * *

_Part One_

The bright way quivered, rippling like water. Its shape did not remain constant. It contracted and held for several seconds, which could have lasted an eternity. Then it expanded outwards in the manner of a fiery parabola, or the collapsing outer rim of a dying star. In the center of this chaotic vortex two figures clung to each other by main force and were hurtled forward through the centuries. 

The voice that crept through all barriers, throbbed to the heart of them. _This is no child's game. Well, you can go forward or you can go back. Must I compel you?_ Walls closed upon their minds. There was no escape, laying a snare for them. 

Captain's log: Stardate 43539.1. 

"As if I didn't have enough to worry about. The Enterprise is maintaining a synchronous orbit over the planet B'reel. IV. Using a combination of the graviton scanners and the ship's tractor beam we are co-ordinating our efforts with the planet's scientists. An aberration caused by gravity influxes near the polar ice caps has caused it to travel a collision course. Unless we are successful in diverting its course it will crash into the northern coast of the planet. Lt. Commander Geordi Laforge and his engineering crew assures me that the theory behind their more radical suggestions is sound. I am inclined to believe them. End log." 

"The proximity alarms. We have a level three intruder alert on holodeck three," Data reported as calmly as he would have reported giving a feline supplement to his pet cat. 

"On the holodeck?" Geordi said. "Why can't intruders just beam into the engine room or the bridge? Or have they exhausted all the usual places on the ship to invade?" Geordi joked. 

"Maybe. Maybe not. I remember when Dr. Kate Pulaski was filling in for me. She wanted to program a holodeck scenario using Sherlock Holmes' arch nemesis, Professor Moriarity. Dr. Pulaski wanted to create an adversary that would pose a challenge in a logic that even Mr. Data's fancy positronic brain wouldn't be able to solve," Dr. Crusher said. 

"Professor Moriarity was probably the first holo-deck character that was able to actually take control of the ship from inside the program parameters. If I recall correctly, the construct had already transcended his character's fictional bonds. He agreed to relent his control over the ship, but also asked to be recalled from the computer's memory should a process for solidifying holodeck creations into real matter ever be found. You agreed," Commander Riker commented as he scanned the readings coming from the indicated areas of the ship. 

"Don't remind me, Number One," Picard said. 

"Captain. I'm detecting definite signs of a conscious mind coming from the holodeck and from Ten Forward. There is definitely someone alive in there maybe more than one in both places," Deanna, the Beatazed counsellor reported. 

"All right, Commander Riker, find Lt. Worf. Take a security detail and check out both locations," Picard ordered. 

"Yes, Sir," Riker replied as he headed for the turbolift. 

No sooner had Riker and the security detail left, then a shimmering curtain of air appeared. Its prismatic colors and shape almost cylindrical. Upon closer inspection, the bridge crew could make out humanoid figure within. It hovered a few feet above the metal deck plates of the bridge, slowly settled, then disappeared as suddenly as it had appeared. As soon as their eyesight returned they heaved a collective sigh; they recognized the "person" lying naked on the floor. It was the entity who called himself Q. Deanna, rushing over to a replicator, she quickly covered him with a cloak. 

Once he was decently covered, Q got up and addressed Captain Picard. "Jean-Luc, it is indeed a pleasure to see you once again." 

"I assure you, Q, the feeling is not mutual," Picard replied. 

"Where's micro brain?" Q quipped. "Why you keep a Klingon around I'll never understand. Don't bother answering, I already know where he is, and if I'm right about the young man I brought here before my powers were nullified, Lt. Worf will be happily occupied for the next hour or so." Q grinned. 

"What do you want Q!" Picard yelled, having frayed his last nerve and completely out of patience for the quixotic imp. 

"I want to join your crew," Q announced. 

"You want to what!" his hearers together said aghast. 

"Why you don't seem to get things the first time, I'll never understand. I said I want to join your crew. Could I have a nice red officer's uniform, too?" Q laughed. 

"We do not have time for this Q. Our first priority is B'reel's moon which must be coaxed into realignment before it reaches 251 degrees on the Y-axis and collides with its primary planetary body," Data replied. 

"Why doesn't Q just snap his fingers and do it himself?" Deanna asked, rubbing a hand through her dark hair in a futile attempt to smooth out the snarls. 

"I can't. I've been evicted from the Continuum as a punishment for my past mischief," Q replied. 

"Great. Just great," Geordi said rubbing the bridge of his nose where his VISOR itched. 

"Mr. Data, Counsellor Troi, you two have the enviable duty of keeping an eye on Q. Powerless or not, I don't trust him. And if he really is sincere about joining my crew, he can start at the bottom and work his way up just like anybody else. Take him to Ten Forward and anywhere he wants to go, but within reason. And try to keep him out of as much trouble as possible," Picard ordered. 

* * *

_Interlude_

The flickering lights that lined the bar from floor to ceiling created odd contrasting shadows along the walls. Although one side of the room was covered in large elliptical windows providing spectacular views of the moving star field outside the ship. The lights were dimmed and subdued at the explicit instruction of the bar's mysterious hostess, Guinan. People came to Ten Forward for relaxation, company, food and drink, even if it came from a replicator. Most importantly, people came to talk to Guinan. She was a good listener, and on the rare occasions when she felt inclined to tender it, good advice. 

Data and Deanna Troi brought Q to Ten Forward after a cursory tour of the ship. They also provided him with a grey, nondescript bodysuit. Q, as a human, was proving just as troublesome as a he'd been as an entity; whiny, complaining of minor aches and pains that ordinarily went unnoticed by folks accustomed to experiencing them every day of their lives. 

"I'm experiencing this incredible pain in my gut," Q said peevishly. 

"Well, maybe you're hungry," Troi winked. 

"What does one usually do when they feel this sensation?" he asked. 

"Well, I when I'm feeling down or have something to think about I have a chocolate hot fudge sundae," Troi replied. 

"Since I've never eaten anything before I should be ravenously hungry. I'll have ten hot fudge sundaes." 

"I've never known anyone to have ten... " Data trailed off after receiving a poke in the ribs from Troi. 

"Q," Guinan said, gliding over from the opposite side of the bar. 

"I think I've just lost my appetite," Q said when he saw Guinan and ignored the sundaes when his order arrived. 

At the moment a tall, dark-haired man crashed through the ceiling and landed directly on top of Q which causing both to sprawl in an ungainly heap on the floor in tangled pile of arms and legs. 

"Serves you right, Q. You deserved that, you know? Turning to Troi and Data, Guinan winked and remarked, "Some members of his race are actually polite." Guinan laughed as the two men struggled to sort themselves out and regain some degree of dignity or at least a standing position. 

"Not one of my better entrances." Duncan MacLeod said stretching out a hand to shake Troi's. "Uh, sorry about that ladies. Allow me to introduce myself, I'm Duncan MacLeod of the clan MacLeod." 

"Counsellor Deanna Troi. A pleasure to meet you," she said and shook the offered hand. "This is Commander Data and this is Guinan." 

Turning to Q, Duncan said, "You I've already met. And as I recall the circumstances of our last meeting were all that pleasant. If this is where we're supposed to be, then where's Jeri Mckenna and Richie Ryan?" he demanded. 

"Not like I was planning any of this!" Q shouted. 

"What is going on here?" Troi demanded. 

"This ought to be good," Guinan remarked. "What have you been up to lately, Q? Besides making Jean-Luc's life miserable?" 

"I don't have to answer that!" he shouted. 

* * *

Meanwhile.... 

Having been hurled several centuries into the future by a impish entity, Richie Ryan felt he suffered less from the shock of finding himself face first in a clump of bromeliad fronds towering twice his height in a steamy jungle setting; as he was suffering from the worst case of time- lapse in history. He shook his head to clear it of the lingering inevitable cobwebs. Richie picked himself up and groggily took stock of his present surroundings. "Could somebody please clue me in why I was standing in the middle of a desert in Saudi Arabia, and now I'm in a jungle? Mac, you out there?" 

"Hai!" a guttural voice yelled, followed up by a wickedly curved half-moon blade. Richie picked up on the motion of the blade as it whistled through the steamy air. His instincts honed for such threats in countless practice sessions with MacLeod, and in actual fights, Richie ducked and rolled off to one side. 

"Hey, whoever you are! What's the big idea! Who the hell are you! And what happened to the common courtesy of introducing yourself first?" Richie ignored the nagging detail that he hadn't felt the "Buzz" that signalled the presence of another Immortal. He rolled out of the way of another sword thrust and bumped up against a solid, weirdly twisted tree trunk. He took advantage of the slight respite as an opportunity to draw his sword from underneath his black robe he'd been wandering the desert in. 

"I can't fight in this. Just because Mac and others had a thing for wearing long coats for the sake of 'weapons concealment' doesn't make them any easier to move around in," he said disgustedly, as he shed the black robe in favor of the leather jacket, T-shirt and blue jeans he wore beneath the robe. 

"I don't recognize you." the same guttural voice said, as the owner came into view. "Did Geordi program you into the program as a practical joke?" 

"Join the club. You got a name, pal? And who's Geordi?" Richie asked. 

"I am not your 'pal.' I am Lt. Commander Worf. Son of Moag," Worf growled. "Chief of Security aboard the Federation star ship _Enterprise_ ," he added as an afterthought. 

"Nice to meet you. I'm Richie Ryan of Seacouver, Washington," he said in the formal way Immortals introduced themselves to one another. "Hey, we're making progress," Richie said as he sized up his opponent. The man stood well over six feet, dark, and heavily muscled. Upon closer inspection, Richie noted that he also sported some oddly furrowed brow ridges. 

"I do not recall making you part of this scenario. And I have never heard of place called Seacouver, Washington. What planet are you from?" Worf wondered. "Computer, hold and freeze program." 

The jungle disappeared with an distorted blurring of the light which was replaced by a square room laid out what looked like black and yellow tiles. 

"You don't remember doing what?" he exclaimed. "What's a holodeck? I can't believe I'm having this conversation. Do you mind if I ask you something first? Uh, are you real?" Richie asked _All things considered, I think I preferred the jungle,_ " he thought. 

"Of course I'm real!" Worf shouted. "Why are you holding a sword? Do you seek to challenge me?" he added. 

"Okay. Now we're getting around to it. Uh, yeah, You're really you and I'm really me. So, just one more question, where are we?" Richie asked. 

"You're aboard the Federation star ship _Enterprise_." Worf answered. "Why do you not know this, if this was your intended destination?" In an suspicious tone, he asked, "Are you part of some advance scouting party and your superiors sent you on ahead for reconnaissance work aboard the ship?" 

"If this where that weird guy stashed our friend's body, then that means this is where we're supposed to end up. But any being powerful enough to do that could have sent us light years away from where Mckenna was, and we'd never know the difference! Man, this sucks!" Richie complained. 

"Did you wish to challenge me or not?" Worf argued, ignoring this rambling monologue. Although the name Mckenna had sounded vaguely familiar. _I'll have to go over the ship's personnel files after this,_ he thought to himself. 

"Yeah, I guess I have a 'thing' for antique weapons and a friend of mine once told me 'it's one thing to be an owner, it's another to be a collector, and it's an entirely different thing to actually know how to use it.' You ready?" Richie replied. 

"Ryan, I do not believe I have ever met a human like you," Worf said, shaking his head and held his weapon in battle position. 

"Yeah, I get that a lot," Richie replied. He rocked back on his heels and braced himself for Worf's opening attack. It was a little disconcerting when the lunge and thrust he expected to be aimed at his shoulders targeted for his ribs. Suddenly Worf sprang at him, cutting at his shoulders fast and hard, then for his torso. He was fast and strong, he landed blows that hurt like being hit with a anvil. Twice struck was enough for Richie, as he determined not to stay on the defensive and concentrated on keeping his footwork even so he wouldn't be caught with both feet crossed. If he was going to get into this, he might as well resign himself to it. He'd had experience facing opponents that were bigger or stronger than him, but being smaller wasn't necessarily a disadvantage, he could use his size to get under the other's guard. 

The two men met and exchanged a flurry of parries and thrusts. Strangely Worf seemed reluctant to go for his most valuable asset, his head. Rather his blows were aimed for his exposed left flank. The wickedly curved half- moon blade left bloody rents in his leather jacket. His last conscious thought before succumbing to an inky blackness was _Man, I lose a lot of jackets this way, and why does this Worf person look more surprised, shocked than I feel?_

* * *

_Part Two_

Dr. Beverly Crusher arched her back, straining to get into a more comfortable position. Her red hair hung loose about her face in a tangle of curls. It had come loose from the tight braids she had bound it up in while she was stitching together Riche Ryan's numerous injuries sustained while participating in one of Lt. Worf's "mock combat simulations." 

Chief Medical Officer's Log: 

"An momentary slip caused Mr. Worf's blaqlith to run the young man through. He claims it was an accident, and immediately rushed the boy to Sickbay, however it was already too late. In fact, I'm surprised he lived long enough to make it here in relatively one piece. Mr. Ryan sustained numerous injuries to the upper torso and left flank, which under normal circumstances are fatal. Death occurred at 20:13 hours. Worf stated that the young man identified himself as Richie Ryan of Seacouver, Washington. End log." 

Just then the body covered by the white sheet on the bed began twitching. Five minutes later the sheet fell to the floor unnoticed as the supposedly deceased sat up and glanced around like he was shocked to find himself there. 

"Oh My God! You're supposed to be dead!" Beverly cried. 

"I get that a lot," Richie replied. "Uh, you're not supposed to see this, uh, see me 'come back.'" 

"Come back? From where? I don't understand?" she said, hopelessly confused. 

"Could you not complete that death certificate, please. My last one made it into the record books, 'Most promising rookie to ever die'. How many other guys can say that?" Richie laughed. "Uh, can I have my clothes back?" he added in a whisper. 

Meanwhile, in Ten Forward Q suddenly became rigid in his seat. He moved like someone pulled his strings, then he jerked upright and became enveloped in a gaseous cloud. 

Drawing his sword, Duncan judged the arc and the intervening space between the cloud and approximate space where Q's body would be. Then Duncan inserted the blade into the energy field, hoping that the metal of the sword would channel some if not most of the electrical energy in the manner of a conductor. Basing his action on the theory that metal contained charges which were free to move around, the presence of the electric field would reverse flow of charges in the direction of the field and away from Q. 

_All things considered, This is still going to be quite a shock,_ Duncan thought. 

He was right as the cloud dissipated and and MacLeod felt the electrical surge pass through the sword blade and into his body. Both men collapsed to the floor. 

"So why did you save me? Would you have done it if you could be hurt? If you weren't what we both know you are? I tricked you, I lied to you, and I shanghaied your friends," Q asked MacLeod. 

"Don't be rubbing salt in old wounds, boyo!" Duncan yelled. 

"If I wasn't Immortal. Maybe, maybe not. I may not like you, I know I don't like you. But I cannae stand by and watch someone else be smothered to death by of sentient vaporous cloud," Duncan answered. 

"So, If MacLeod hadn't been there...." Deanna trailed off. 

"Apparently these aliens were just another race of beings, who, after being taunted by Q decided they were fed up with him and exacted a little revenge," Guinan remarked. 

* * *

Later.... 

"It was probably just a scenario set up by Q to make it look like Worf killed Richie, or to make us think he did, but he didn't. He just made it look that way." Jeri Mckenna explained, brushing a strand of thick chestnut hair away from her eyes. _"I know we didn't get a whole lot of time to talk while they've been aboard the _Enterprise_ , but it's so wonderful to see them both again,_ she thought wistfully. 

"What's a holodeck?" Duncan asked, but was ignored. "You've encountered this entity before?" he added. 

"Yes, Our first encounter with Q was at Farpoint Station where he placed us on trial for the 'crimes of humanity,'" Picard said. 

"But you obviously found a loophole in dealing with his rather spurious logic. He doesn't strike me as all that stable an individual," Duncan argued. 

"The second time he tempted me with the powers of the Q. The trick was to see whether or not I'd succumb to using them," Riker added. 

"Yeah, but why does he do it?" Jeri asked. 

"It amuses him," Data answered. 

"Uh, getting back to our previous discussion..." Geordi trailed off. 

"But I did kill him!" Worf shouted. "I ran my blaqlith right through him!" he protested. 

"Well, maybe it wasn't as serious a wound as you thought," Duncan said. 

"It was on the holodeck, right? You had the safety parameters running?" Geordi asked turning to the obviously distressed MacLeod. He hadn't gone into too much detail, but the young man was close to him and the circumstances surrounding Ryan's "death" and miraculous recovery, had him very worried. "Everything on the holodeck is based on computer generated images, they're elaborate but they're nothing more than sophisticated mathematical algorithms. What I'm trying to say is that injuries look pretty darn serious on the holodeck, but they're just pretend. With the safety parameters on-line, weapons can't draw blood." 

"No. I took the safety parameters off-line when we both agreed to use edged weapons. Mr. Ryan said he had 'a thing' for antique weapons and fought a mock combat with me. I agreed and we continued with the program I currently had running," Worf interrupted. 

"What kind of antique weapons?" Deanna asked. 

"A sword, apparently. Carbon dating indicated that it's a French style epee dating from the 18th century. It belongs to Mr. Ryan. The other blade that confiscated by the security detail belongs to Mr. MacLeod, and is a 16th century Japanese katana," Data reported. 

"I've participated in your mock combat programs before, Mr. Worf. You should have left the safety parameters on," Riker said sternly. 

"Commander, I did not intentionally place the young man in any significant, life threatening danger," Worf said. 

"I made out the death certificate. I gave the young man a full medical exam. MacLeod suffered a severe electrical shock. As it is, I didn't expect him to be up this soon. I've seen patients 'come back' on the operating table, but nothing like this," Dr. Crusher said, and shook her head and gave Richie a disapproving glare that said "Why are you sitting there grinning like a fool when you've just had a Klingon blade rip through your chest and you died?" She gave MacLeod the same treatment that said, "And why are you sitting there acting like nothing ever happened?" 

"Could you have made a mistake, Beverly?" Picard asked. 

"I could have, but I didn't," she replied. 

* * *

On the bridge 

"We'll have to table this discussion for now. B'reel's moon is the most important issue right now," Picard said. 

"Message coming through from the B'reel scientists. They are ready to start the gravitational scanners, Sir," Worf reported from his tactical station. 

"Excellent. Geordi get down to engineering and power up the scanners. Commander Data, you will co-ordinate with Commander LaForge, who will be responsible for making sure the ship's tractor beams are in activation at the same time." Picard replied. 

"I'm on it," Laforge replied as he headed for the turbo lift. 

"Sir, computer inventory reports a missing shuttle from the landing bay," Deanna said. 

"Who took it?" Riker asked. 

"You're not going to believe this, but apparently Q stole it," Deanna replied. 

* * *

Onboard the stolen Federation shuttle 

"Q, I know you can hear me," Picard said over the shuttle's intercom. 

"Jean-Luc, don't try to talk me out of this?" 

"I'm warning you." 

"Look, I made a mistake. MacLeod may have 'saved' me from the Calimarians, but that doesn't mean they won't try again. I'm leaving before that can happen." 

"I don't give a damn about the Calimarians! Get back here!" Picard yelled. 

"Sorry, Captain. I'm not a member of your crew, remember. I don't have to do what you tell me," Q grinned his familiar annoying smirk that signalled he was secretly pleased about something. It looked even wider and more annoying on the view screen. Then Q terminated the connection. 

Meanwhile, the silver arrow of the stolen shuttle arced out into space pulling farther and farther away from the Federation starship. It gave every indication of a determined starling bird fleeing its mother, and made considerable headway in its flight. Just then a curtain of prismatic light surrounded the shuttle and held it in an invisible grip. 

"Brother!" a voice said from the ether. 

"Brother," the first Q responded in surprise. 

"A selfless act? In all the millennia that I've known you, you've actually managed to surprise me," the second Q remarked. "We've been watching you, you know?" 

"Not that I'm not pleased to see another member of the Continuum, to what do I owe the honor of this visit?" Q1 asked. 

"What is it with you and provoking these mortals anyway? And do you really believe these so-called Immortals are really all they're cracked up to be?" Q2 asked, perplexed. "I must admit that was playing the trump card. As for Picard, sacrificing yourself by luring the alien race away, inspired. 

"About the Immortals, I can't be entirely sure if they really are or they aren't. We didn't create their race did we?" Q1 asked. 

"I can't be sure. I'll have to check the records of the Continuum," Q2 replied, shrugging. 

"What are you doing here. Don't tell me you're paying a social call?" Q1 said. 

"Well, as I've said, we've been watching you and the auditors on the elders council were suitably impressed by your 'selfless' act that they've agreed to restore your powers on a probationary basis. Q, brother, one more thing, just don't screw up again, this restitution is only temporary. You could be nullified again," Q2 warned. 

"I think I owe Captain Picard a favor. I believe that as my first act with my newly restored powers is to realign B'reel IV's moon so that it doesn't crash into the planet. However, 'brother', I need your discretion on this, if any of this gets out to the council, my reputation will be ruined." Q1 commented. 

"Hah! They'll never hear it from me!" Q2 said and disappeared. 

* * *

Elsewhere 

A signal came through from Geordi down in engineering. "What is it, Geordi?" Picard asked. 

"Captain, this is unbelievable, someone unknown force has shifted the moon onto an entirely different trajectory. The moon is continuing in its normal orbit and is heading away from the planet!" he exclaimed. 

"On screen." 

The image that appeared on the view screen confirmed the evidence of the scanners. The silvery orb of the moon continued blithely on its new course unaware of the potential havoc it could have caused had it followed its previous course. 

* * *

Later 

"So, we really didn't reach a consensus about whether or not this Q person was responsible for creating the Immortals?" Richie questioned. 

"What a bizarre and immature life form," Duncan growled. He supposed he should be happy since Captain Picard agreed to return their swords. 

"You don't know the half of it," Deanna smiled. 

"To answer your earlier question, Richie, either Q was lying or he used it as cover story in order to get us to join him, and when we didn't he was perturbed enough to bring us to this particular time-line any ways," Duncan speculated. 

"After all, Q did say that he was sending us to wherever he had 'stashed my body while he was borrowing my semblance if you recall your previous encounter with him or it, or whatever this entity is," Jeri commented. 

"Does this mean that we're stuck here? No offence, Captain Picard, but it's like not that I want to spend the rest of my life on this ship," Richie said. 

"Oh, Is there something on the _Enterprise_ that you object to, young man?" Dr. Crusher said angrily, crossing her arms. 

"Not at all, ma'am. It's just that, that it's not home," Richie replied, glancing askance at MacLeod and wondering what he had done to earn the chief medical officer's icy demeanour. 

"I'll handle this," Jeri announced, approaching Richie and Duncan. "Look, guys, I know this is difficult for you, for all of us..." Jeri trailed off. "Would it really be so bad to stay here? It's not like our time-line is that great." 

"Mac, when we return to Earth we have got to tell Dawson about this!" Richie laughed. "Uh, are they going to be okay not knowing about Immortals and everything?" he said nervously raising a hand to wipe sweat from his forehead. 

"Yeah, I bet this is something not even Methos or the Watchers have ever heard about," Jeri answered. 

"Do you think Dawson's going to believe this one?" Richie asked. 

"Well, there's only one way to find out. Why can't Jeri come back with us?" Duncan said. 

_"I made a deal. She stays here. You guys can go home,"_ a quicksilver voice replied. "Bon Voyage, boys!" Q exclaimed. 

"Just one thing before you go," Jeri said, rushing over and giving both Richie and Duncan a hug, "I love you guys, and I'll always remember you!" she promised as they vanished into a shimmering vortex. 

* * *

_Conclusion_

As Picard was about to give orders for a new course heading, a blinding flash of quicksilver light appeared in the middle of the bridge. Q, still dressed in his version of a Starfleet uniform is celebrating. Q paraded around the bridge, playing a trumpet and led an impromptu conga march, complete with a Mariachi band, cigars, and women for the bridge crew. Coming over to Riker he leaned up and whispered in the first officer's ear, "You were never this stolid before the bear," Q laughed, then snapped his finger, and the entire ensemble disappeared. 

"Maybe Q's learned his lesson for once," Picard said. 

A voice from the ether came through the ship's intercom system: "Don't bet on it." 

"Warp factor six. Engage. Get us out of here, Ensign," Picard ordered. 

~The End~ 

* * *

"Footsteps in the Sand 

© 2000  
Please send comments to the author! 

<06/10/2000 

* * *


End file.
